We call it War

September 22, 2008
He sits there and he waits,
Wishing and wanting just to be home.
Not want to see what lays beyond the gates,
As the gate opens he can hear it moan.
What he sees is far worse than any hate.
He cries at the sight of it.
What is this horrible thing you ask,
It is just but a meer mask,
Of a waiting soldier from the past.
Who could just not out last,
All the hurt and the pain in the little game,
We call War!

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